


Doropetra Collection

by Kuzuriolu



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Laguz, Alternate Universe - Mermaids, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Pokemon Fusion, Alternate Universe - Werewolves, Doropetra Day 2019, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Girls in Love, Lesbians, One Shot Collection, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-18 18:07:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21531085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuzuriolu/pseuds/Kuzuriolu
Summary: A collection of alternate universes featuring Dorothea and Petra and their adventures in romance based on the Doropetra Day prompts. Updated once a day.Day One: Battle/Pokémon AUDay Two: Charm/Laguz AUDay Three: Thorn/Werewolf AUDay Four: Sea/Mermaid AUDay Five: Distance/Modern AU
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary
Comments: 18
Kudos: 134
Collections: Dorothea/Petra Day 2019





	1. Battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i cant believe i've committed myself into doing this.
> 
> So my Pokemon au is based off of Pokemon Conquest. If you haven't played that game, you really should, because it's fucking good. If you have, some of the mechanics I've mentioned in this fanfic will be familiar to you. 
> 
> In this fanfic, Fódlan is based off of Galar and Brigid is based off of Alola, so there's some references to that in there. Including curry.

“Brionne, Bubble Beam!”

A stream of high-speed bubbles shot out from the mouth of Dorothea’s Pokémon, aimed directly at her opponent’s paws. Though the attack caused the opposing Pokémon to briefly stumble, she quickly regained her composure and leapt into the air, avoiding any further damage. 

“We will not be defeated so easily. Though you are having the type advantage, we have been training for battles like this! Lycanroc, Accelerock!”

The Dusk Lycanroc’s body became surrounded in a white aura as she launched herself at the opposing Brionne, giving it not even a chance to react. The two Pokémon collided, with the Pop Star Pokémon letting out a cry of pain.

Dorothea’s fingers traced over her chin as she contemplated the situation laid out before her. Her Water-type Pokémon versus Petra’s Rock-type Pokémon. Normally, her advantage would be clear, but Brionne couldn’t keep up with how very _fast_ Petra’s Pokémon was. As a stealthy assassin who took advantage of slower enemies upon the battlefield, the Brigid Princess required a partner Pokémon able to keep up with her nimble movements. Years upon years of fighting had honed the Wolf Pokémon’s speed stat, resulting in unparalleled agility. If Dorothea even wanted a chance of overcoming Petra, she had to do something to even the difference in speed. 

“Quick! Let’s dazzle our dearest Petra with our best Icy Wind, shall we?” commanded the songstress, flicking her finger forward and giving the woman on the opposite side of the training grounds a wink.

Brionne took a deep breath before huffing out a gust of air, trickling with sparkles of snowflakes. The chilling air brushed against Lycanroc’s fur, sending shivers down her spine. Frigid ice formed upon the Wolf Pokémon’s paws, trapping it upon the ground. Dorothea’s eyes lit up and a brilliant grin spread from ear to ear, proud that her little plan had done the job. Icy Wind was an excellent move when it came to lowering an opponent’s speed. 

“Now then! Let’s finish her once and for all! Give her an Aqua Jet!”

Dorothea’s Pokémon surrounded herself in a veil of water and dashed towards her opponent at top speed, determined to land the finishing blow upon her Rock-type opponent. The glimmer of victory shone upon the horizon, so close within their grasp…!

“Lycanroc! Be using Thunder Fang!”

As swift as an arrow soaring through the sky, Petra’s Lycanroc nabbed one of Brionne’s fins with teeth gleaming with sparks of electricity as she barreled towards her, stopping her in her tracks. The electric pulse shot through the Water-type Pokémon’s body, immediately sizzling out the Aqua Jet with a puff of steam. Brionne’s cries filled the battlefield as she took the full force of her opponent’s Thunder Fang. Just that single move was enough to finish off the still inexperienced Pokémon, whose eyes swirled as Lycanroc released her from her grip.

Dorothea let out a sigh. It had been a long shot in the first place, but she had gotten so close to victory. She supposed it was only natural, given how long Petra and Lycanroc had been together for. The two were deeply linked, almost as though they were soul bound. In comparison to a lifelong bond, Brionne and Dorothea had practically only just met. Surveying that the mock battlefield was safe to cross, the songstress darted over towards her fallen Pokémon, lifting her up into her arms and cradling her close to her chest.

“You did well, Brionne,” she reassured her Pokémon in a soothing voice. “We’ll get the better of Petra one of these days, all right?”

The Pop Star Pokémon gazed up at her trainer with a disappointed expression, but nodded all the same. Brionne was a confident Pokémon when it came to performing on stage alongside her human, but far more nervous upon the battlefield. She often seemed to fret over whether or not Dorothea was satisfied with her battling capabilities, especially compared to some of the stronger Pokémon in the Black Braviary Strike Force. Regardless, Dorothea was still proud of her partner Pokémon, even now as she lay defeated in her arms.

“You were impressive!” Petra complimented the duo, walking over to meet them. Lycanroc hurried towards her trainer’s side and nuzzled against her leg, affection glittering in her eyes. “You and Brionne have gained much closeness. Seeing you fight alongside a Pokémon of Brigid gives me great joy!”

Dorothea giggled at her close friend as she stood, arms rocking her Pokémon. “Oh yeah? Well, we’re a perfect match! It’s all thanks to you.”

A light blush decorated Petra’s cheeks. “You do not have to be thanking me. I am sure you would have been meeting anyways. It is destiny to be meeting with your soul Pokémon.” 

Soul Pokémon was a term that Petra used, a more literal translation of the phrase in the language of Brigid. The people of Fódlan referred to it as a “Perfect Link.” Every human was said to be born with a Perfect Link: a certain species of Pokémon that one could attain an unbreakable, deep bond with. Though most people could link with almost any kind of Pokémon, only one or rarely two species of Pokémon could be a Perfect Link. Perfect Links led to deeper strengths in battles, and was almost always preferable to using any other kind of Pokémon, _especially_ when there was a war going on. Some people met their Perfect Link right away, others would have to wait awhile, and some would die never knowing. Dorothea was almost certain she would be apart of the last category, had it not been for Petra.

Who would have thought that her Perfect Link would be a Pokémon that only lived in Brigid?

Dorothea had met Brionne when she was still a Popplio. The Black Braviary Strike Force had been on a mission in Brigid, a routine check with the Empire’s allies to assure that their stance in the war would not chance. Petra and Dorothea had happened upon a couple of poachers from Fódlan attempting to snatch away a few Brigid Pokémon and sell them for a high price. Popplio had been one of them. The two of them fought off the thieves with ease, and at the end, when Dorothea’s hand had touched Popplio to escort her to the nearest healer, she had felt a strange sensation within her, like a bolt of lightning crackling through foggy clouds, chasing away mist. It was a Perfect Link.

It had been a year since then, and Popplio had evolved. But she was still inexperienced, and thus needed training before she could partake in a real life or death battle. Thus, she and Petra had decided to spend a large portion of each day training the Pop Star Pokémon, hoping to eventually let her evolve once more. 

“Anyways, why don’t we all heal up with some curry?” Dorothea suggested. “I’ve been practicing, and I think I’ve _finally_ perfected a recipe.”

Petra looked uncertain, but smiled regardless. Dorothea’s curries had been known to be infamously bad, so terrible that it had once gotten the entire army sick. The songstress had insisted that it was because she had accidentally used a pile of rotten Oran Berries, but more likely than not, she had just completely ruined their taste by throwing far too many things in the pot. “If you have confidence in your recipe, I will be trying it,” she decided. “But I am hoping that you will not be using rotten berries this time.”

“Oh trust me, Petra, this time will be much better!” Besides, this time, she had a little trick up her sleeve that she just couldn’t _wait_ to share...

After setting Brionne down with Petra, Dorothea hurried to the dining hall to retrieve one of the curry pots and some utensils. Curry was a speciality of Fódlan, and there were plenty of different kinds. Dorothea had never been particularly picky about the kinds of curry that she liked, but Petra tended to favor spicy flavors, while both their Pokemon liked sweetness. With that in mind, she grabbed a few Pomeg Berries alongside a pack of Brigid sausages, something that she had obtained in secret the last time the army had visited the archipelago. Pomeg Berries were known for a mixture of both spicy and sweet flavors, so she hoped it would be enough to please the entire group. Besides, the inclusion of Brigid sausage was sure to delight Petra, who rarely got a chance to taste food from her homeland. The people of Fódlan cared not for the extravagant flavors of Brigid, and thus, never imported food from the isles. Dorothea hoped to Arceus that she would be able to do justice with these sausages, even though she had never cooked them before. They couldn’t be too different from the ones in Fódlan, right?

When the pot was all set up and the mixture had been poured in, Brionne and Lycanroc watched the songstress curiously as she stirred, making sure to keep a steady pace. Petra, meanwhile, simply smiled as the aroma wafted through the training ground, attracting the attention of a few other intrigued Pokémon. 

“I think you’re going to like this, Petra,” Dorothea told the other woman as she took a whiff of the mixture. Thankfully, it didn’t smell _nearly_ as putrid as her last attempt, a substance that could barely be called curry. In fact, it smelt rather delicious to the singer, though she could hardly call herself someone of refined taste. 

Lycanroc’s ears perked up as she took a deep sniff of the air, her eyes going wide. She began to wag her tail back and forth like an excited Rockruff, letting out a bark of delight. It seemed that Petra’s Pokémon had already caught onto the secret ingredient within the curry. Brionne’s eyes also began to glimmer, familiar with the scent of food from her homeland. It appeared that her secret ingredient was certain to be super effective!

“And… done!” Dorothea declared. “Let’s serve this up now, shall we?”

Dorothea took great care in plating the curry, pouring just enough over an abundance of rice and topping each plate with two full helpings of Brigid sausage. Though she could hardly be called a chef, Dorothea couldn’t help but feel a bit proud at her creation. The combination of both Fódlan and Brigid food was sure to bring a smile to everyone’s face. Lycanroc was practically bouncing up and down, eager to wolf down the plate with glee. Petra, meanwhile, was peering curiously at the dishes, eyes widened as she recognized the all too familiar scent...

“This is being—!” she gasped. “Dorothea! Where did you get this sausage!?”

“In Brigid, of course! I took a bit of a detour on our last visit. Nowhere else to get Brigid sausage but Brigid, right?” Certainly not in Fódlan, that was for sure. “I wanted to surprise you the next time I got to make curry. Oh, I do hope I managed to make it properly.”

A wide smile spread its way upon Petra’s face, the princess’s brown eyes practically sparkling with joy. “You were wanting to be doing this… just for me?! Oh Dorothea, you have my gratitude…!”

Without warning, the Brigid princess threw her arms around the other woman, pulling her into a gleeful, tight hug. Strong arm muscles constricted Dorothea, knocking the wind out of her and forcing her to gasp for air. Oh how she loved her dearest Petra, but boy was she strong! Still, she managed to return the embrace, winding her arms around the other woman’s waist and giggling softly, her cheeks flaring red. 

“Oh sweetie, you don’t have to thank me. I promised I’d make you food from your homeland all those years ago, didn’t I?” Dorothea reminded her. 

Indeed, she had done so only a moon after the two of them had first met at the Officer’s Academy, back when they were mere students who hadn’t fathomed the possibility of a war. Dorothea had wanted to do something to combat some of the princess’s homesickness, so she had offered to cook for her. Back then, however, it was merely wishful thinking, and was all but an impossibility. To think that one day she’d actually get to do it… well, she had to thank Manuela later for all those cooking lessons. 

“I mean, it’s not quite the same thing. It’s more like a mix of Fódlan and Brigid food, and it's only a sausage and not something like those malasadas you always talk about, but all the same… I just wanted to give you something as thanks. For Brionne, and well… everything, really. This is only a fraction of my gratitude! I’ll definitely find another way to thank you later.”

Petra’s eyes gleamed with interest. “And how will you be doing that?”

“Well… I’m not sure,” the songstress admitted. “Why don’t you choose?”

“Then… will you be kissing me?”

“Sure, Petra, I’ll—”

Wait. What?

“ —Wait, Petra! That’s really quite sudden, I… you… you really want me to kiss you?” Dorothea gasped, heart suddenly racing at what felt like the pace of a Rapidash galloping into battle. “But we're not… we aren’t…?”

“We are not being… what?” Petra asked, head cocked to the side. “Are you not wanting to be kissing me?”

“No, I do, I do, but—! I didn’t know you felt that way about me, and… Oh Arceus, Petra. I’ve only ever dreamt of this…”

The small giggle that passed through Petra’s lips set Dorothea’s heart aflame. “Then be dreaming no more.”

Without wasting another moment, the two girls pressed their lips together. Dorothea let out a soft sigh as she melted into the kiss, feeling her own rapid heartbeat against Petra’s chest. For just that moment, all that mattered was the beautiful girl whose lips were touching her own, whose arms were tangled around her waist. The songstress soon found one of her hands tangling within fuchsia locks of hair, pulling her ever closer as she basked in the pure, wonderful feeling of _Petra_.

It was a clang on the ground that tore the two of them from their heated kiss. Dorothea looked downwards and saw that Lycanroc, unable to resist any longer, had pulled a place of curry down from the table and was chowing down on it with unrestrained vigor. Messy splashes of hot red curry stained her orange fur as she gobbled up a sausage whole, clearly thoroughly enjoying the meal. Likewise, Brionne had joined in on the thievery, though she was struggling to obtain her own dish. 

The sweetest laugh Dorothea had ever heard sounded out from Petra, who looked all too amused. “I think we should be eating before our curry is getting cold,” she decided. “But after we are done eating, I want to be kissing you again. Do you have understanding?”

“Yes, of course, Petra. Of course,” Dorothea agreed, a brilliant smile gracing her features.

And so, the two warlords happily indulged in the sweet and spicy curry alongside their eager Pokémon, who stuffed themselves completely full and promptly fell fast asleep, leaving some free time for their trainers to continue their adventures in newfound romance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yeah, here's day one completed. I've finished day two and day three, but I gotta work on four and five. I honestly wanted these to only be like, one thousand words but once again I am unable to keep things concise. I hope you all enjoy regardless!
> 
> I know it's Doropetra day and not Doropetra week, but I'm still going to only update once a day. I hope you can be patient. Leave a kudo and a comment if you liked! Can't wait to see what other people have in store.


	2. Charm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt two is "Charm." This one features my Tellius crossover AU with Heron Dorothea. If you read [On Broken Wings](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20250979/chapters/47996506) you might be a bit familiar with this AU. However, this does NOT take place in the same timeline as that fanfic. While plenty of the background is the same with the Tragedy of Duscur and Serenes Massacre, that fanfic is non canon here. 
> 
> By the way, I feel I should clarify that every fanfic here uses their post time-skip designs and ages.

When Petra had agreed to go to the opera alongside Ferdinand and Edelgard, she wasn’t exactly sure what to expect.

Back in her homeland of Brigid, there weren't any big opera companies. Though there were a few enthusiastic groups that enjoyed putting on tales of ancient Brigid legends, they weren’t exactly anything too grand. From time to time, she had gone to visit the stage alongside her father, who enjoyed showing his precious daughter the splendor of their culture. But as far as she knew, the opera in Fódlan was incredibly different. Nobles from all over Fódlan would come to attend the grand opera located in the heart of Enbarr, wearing their best gowns and adorned with expensive jewelry, a far cry from what she had experienced in Brigid. While she didn’t exactly have anything special to wear, Ferdinand had assured her that the Brigid royal garments that she usually wore would be suitable enough. 

Tonight was to be a special performance, apparently. One of the most famous operas in all of Fódlan was to be shown, starring the famous Dorothea Arnault herself. Petra didn’t know much about this Dorothea, but Ferdinand had described her as “the very essence of beauty itself” and enthusiastically told her that she possessed “the voice of the Goddess.” That alone was enough to spark Petra’s curiosity, so she decided to tag along.

The three of them were seated in a grand booth high above the rest, reserved for only the Emperor and her guests. From up above, they had a clearer view of the decorated stage than anyone else. 

“Ferdinand… what is this opera being about again?” Petra asked as she marveled at the detail of the props on stage. A replica of a castle had been built and painted from what looked like wood, though it was hard to tell with how well they managed to disguise it as stone. 

“Ah, yes! It is a tragedy about a common woman from the Empire who falls deeply in love with a prince from Faerghus. They are what are known as ‘star-crossed lovers.’ Though they wish to be together, fate is doing all it can to tear them apart,” Ferdinand answered. It seemed he was plenty knowledgeable, which didn’t surprise Petra at all given how often he bragged about his numerous visits to the opera house. According to him, he had never missed a performance when he was just a child, enamored by the stage. “It is truly a classic tale! I hear Dorothea is going to be the lead actress, which makes me wonder how they’ll choose to alter it.”

“Alter it?” Petra questioned. “Why are they needing to do so?”

“Ah! Well, you see. Dorothea is—oh! It’s starting!”

Ferdinand had no time to answer Petra’s question, for a man had stepped upon the stage. Everyone in the opera house went dead silent as he began to read off an introduction to the opera they were about to see, including the names of all the cast members and their roles. Petra listened intently to his every word. 

Soon enough, the man was gone, replaced by another. The narrator, Ferdinand informed Petra. The narrator began to introduce the heroine of the story, a common woman, just as Ferdinand had said. The sound of the orchestra filled the room as a woman walked upon stage, taking her spot front and center. The entire audience gasped at the sight. 

Despite the fact that her character was supposed to be a commoner, she was wearing a lengthy white dress embedded with glistening gemstones at the hems. Long brown hair fell from her head upon her shoulders, decorated with a single, light blue flower tucked behind her ear. Glimmering emerald eyes shined brilliantly within the stage lights, so beautiful that Petra’s heart skipped a beat at the captivating sight. But the most gorgeous and yet shocking part of her were definitely the giant, white wings that sprung from her back. They shone like pure ivory, each feather pure and clean. 

After taking a deep breath in, the songstress began to sing. As if Petra couldn’t have been more enchanted by the beauty, her voice only made her fall further. It was as clear as a radiant day, like the sun shining upon a newly born spring’s morning. She hit every note, high and low, with pure ease and perfection that it seemed as though she was born to do just that. And judging by the beautiful wings on her back, it seemed that it wasn’t far from the truth.

“A heron?” Petra asked in a hushed whisper.

Ferdinand nodded. “Yes. Dorothea’s a heron. One of the last ones in existence.”

Petra had heard the story of what had happened to the heron tribe of Laguz. Following the murder of the King of Faerghus, the Laguz kingdom of Duscur had been implicated as the masterminds behind the incident. The heron tribe living in Serenes Forest was named as a co-conspirator, and thus, the soldiers of the Kingdom took their revenge on both. The lands were decimated, burnt to a crisp, and while some Laguz of Duscur managed to escape the genocide of their people, the herons were not so lucky. Serenes Forest was completely destroyed in the aftermath. Herons who had attempted to fly to safety were shot down by soldiers with bows and arrows, and those who could not attempt to flee suffocated in the smog. 

Fódlan had always been known for their dislike for Laguz. Unlike Brigid, where Beorc and Laguz lived in harmony, Laguz in Fódlan either lived in far off, sheltered tribes or were forced into a life of slavery. That’s why it was so odd to find one upon the stage, captivating the hearts of practically everyone in the room. It seemed that the overwhelming hatred for the Laguz had been completely forgotten about as every pair of eyes were locked upon the graceful heron, listening to her sing her gorgeous yet heartbreaking song of tragedy. There were plenty of lyrics that the Brigid native didn’t immediately understand, but all the same, her aria was heartstopping. She had not been on the stage for even five minutes, and Petra’s heart had already been claimed by the astoundingly beautiful heron. 

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Ferdinand whispered. “You think so too, don’t you, Edelgard?”

Edelgard didn’t answer. She wore a completely stern expression upon her face as she gazed at the heron, a distant and solemn look within her light blue eyes. It seemed as though she was immune to the effects, or perhaps she bore knowledge that prevented her from enjoying the song in the same way everyone else was. 

“I am thinking so,” Petra muttered. “She is having great beauty. But I am having to wonder. If Fódlan is hating the Laguz so much... Why does no one have anger towards her?”

During her time in Fódlan, Petra had seen numerous atrocities. She’d seen Laguz senselessly slaughtered for simply existing. She’d seen abandoned Laguz children upon the streets of Enbarr, covered in bruises and bloody scabs from beatings. Yet, as everyone sat here, watching this sole Laguz, she saw no hatred. No one was throwing things at her, and there were no yells of angered nobility calling her a “filthy subhuman.” 

Ferdinand did not answer immediately. When he finally did, his voice was only the faintest whisper:

“Because she’s beautiful.”

The haunting three word answer sent a shiver down Petra’s spine. As the opera continued and the Brigid princess watched as Dorothea’s character fell in love with a handsome man playing a prince, it became clearer and clearer than Ferdinand was correct. There were a few changes in the script to compensate for the fact that the heroine was being played by a Laguz, and not a Beorc as intended. A few lines about how gorgeous her wings were, a few laments about how no one would approve of love between a Beorc and a Laguz. Normally, such romance would be looked upon with disgusted scorn, but no one seemed to bat an eye at the changes. The audience simply took it in stride, and the cheers for her after every song did not grow any fainter. Petra too had fallen for the heron’s spell, and the whole time, she could not take her eyes away from Dorothea. She was surely just one of many who had her heart stolen tonight.

The opera ended cruelly, as many tragedies did. The prince was forced to marry a woman of high status who he did not love, and the commoner woman was torn from her lover. Soon after, following a tear-filled, sorrowful song, she crumpled to the ground and died from heartbreak. Though Petra herself did not cry at the tragic ending, she could hear sniffles and sobs from various audience members… including Ferdinand. Edelgard was still as emotionless as previous, seemingly barely affected by the opera. Petra, on the other hand, had certainly been affected… just in a very, very different way.

When all the cast members came back on stage and bowed, the cheers from the audience were practically deafening. Almost everyone stood from their seats and applauded, and when Dorothea took her turn to bow, shouts from various enamored noble men filled the room. It was clear who the favorite was.

“Well? You liked it, didn’t you?” Ferdinand asked, tears still welling up in his eyes. “I just so happen to be rather good friends with Dorothea. Would you like to meet her?”

Petra’s heart stopped and her cheeks flustered pink at the idea. She had only seen the woman on stage and knew barely anything about who she was, but… “Yes! I would love to be meeting her.”

When the room cleared out, Ferdinand took Petra and lead her towards the front of the opera house, where the cast members were waiting to meet with adoring fans. Though there were a few people here and there conversing with other cast members, likely family, there was an obvious crowd around Dorothea, consisting mostly of handsome young noblemen. The sea of suitors was near endless, and for a moment, Petra wondered if she would even _get_ to talk to Dorothea like this. 

“Dorothea!” Ferdinand shouted. 

The heron’s head flickered upwards as she locked gazes with Ferdinand. A loud sigh escaped her lips. “Oh, it’s you again,” she complained loudly, so that her voice could be heard over the shouts. “If it’s about that father of yours, I’m still not interested in the slightest. So you can stop asking me.”

Ferdinand pushed through the crowd, Petra’s hand in tow. The princess nearly tripped over herself numerous times, but managed to stay upon her feet as they reached the front. Petra nearly stopped breathing as she stood face to face with the heron woman in all her glory. Somehow, even though the stage lights were no longer there to illuminate her, she looked even prettier. The faint moonlight was just enough to make those white feathers of hers glow silver, causing Petra’s heart to stop. 

Oh, she was _gorgeous_. 

“No, no! It’s not about that at all, actually. I just—” 

“Get out of the way, von Aegir! Just because you’re the future prime minister doesn’t mean you can have her!” sneered a nearby nobleman. “I’ve already offered the opera company nearly ten million gold for her! That heron will be mine!”

“Only ten million gold!? I’ll offer twenty! You surely know how much a heron is worth, don’t you?”

Dorothea fidgeted uncomfortably at the demanding voice of her far too amorous suitors. It was clear from the sorrowful glint in her green eyes that she was not enjoying the way the various suitors were treating her, as though she was simply some object. It was the unfortunate truth that many Laguz in Fódlan were captured and sold off, to be treated as nothing more than slaves for their Beorc owners. It was clear that although these men admired her, she was not immune to the stigma Laguz had to bear in Fódlan. Suddenly, it dawned on Petra that these men had no intention of marrying her. They simply wanted to keep her as some sort of trophy for bragging rights, so that they could say they owned a rare, beautiful heron. 

Ferdinand sighed. “Look, my friend just wanted to meet you, all right?” he told her. “It’s her first time at the opera, and she really liked your performance, so… Petra! Come say hi.”

Though she was nervous, Petra stepped forward. “Hello! I am being called Petra Macneary. I am from Brigid,” she introduced with a bow, as custom in Fódlan. “I… I am not having too much experience with your language, but I was just wanting to say that I was loving your performance. Your voice was being beautiful..! I have never heard such incredible singing before. That is all.”

Petra did not raise her head from the bow, and instead watching her fidgeting feet with a searing blush on her cheeks. She dared not face Dorothea’s reaction, embarrassed with how _clearly_ nervous her tone had been. Would she be able to sense the panic in her voice? She didn’t know why she was so very afraid of this woman, but everything about Dorothea was sending Petra into a flurry of jitters. 

She did not know what kind of reaction she was expecting, but the heron began to giggle with delight. Petra peered her head up and saw Dorothea gazing at her with admiration, curiosity gleaming in her green eyes—a far cry from the scornful looks she gave the much too adoring men. “Petra, huh? What a beautiful name,” she complimented. “Fitting for a woman as beautiful as yourself.”

“I—” Petra stuttered, her whole body growing _very_ stiff and hot. “ —You have my gratitude, but you are not needing to say such things…”

The heron stepped forward, ignoring the horde of men surrounding her. For that brief moment in time, it was as though the crowd didn’t exist at all as Dorothea moved ever closer to Petra, her fingers grazing the other woman’s rosy red cheeks. As her fingertips tickled Petra’s soft skin, the Brigid princess froze completely. It felt as though time itself had stopped, with her heart missing a prolonged beat. She became lost in those deep green eyes, shining like sea glass washed up upon the Brigid shore. 

“Petra’s actually the princess of Brigid!” Ferdinand explained, breaking Petra away from her lovestruck reverie. “She’ll be queen very soon!”

“Oh, that doesn’t surprise me,” Dorothea remarked as she admired the other woman. “You look just like one! The perfect princess.”

“A...ah, you do not need to be calling me princess! You are making my cheeks blush!” protested Petra.

“Oh? Am I? Then I’ll have to call you nothing but that, hm, princess?” teased the heron, going straight for Petra’s heart. “You’re too cute.”

Petra opened her mouth to object, but found that no words came out. Her heart was racing like never before, and her mind was in a complete scramble. It was evident why all these men were so terribly in love with her, but at the same time… it made Petra wonder. Was this how she acted with all of them? Was what she was seeing before her just a display rather than the true Dorothea? It certainly _felt_ authentic, more so than the way she was conversing with the men previous. She gulped and fiddled with one of her necklaces, trying to find _some_ way to distract her thumping heart. 

“Dorothea!” shouted a woman from across the crowd. “We have to begin cleaning up the stage. Are you coming?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll come! Just give me one last moment,” she shouted back, hands falling from the cheeks of the princess she had so easily charmed.

Petra took a moment to steady her breathing and heart, which had both gone out of control. Never had she ever reacted like this to anyone else, and she was shocked at how deeply she had fallen within mere minutes. However, she did not have long to compose herself, for soon enough, Dorothea had turned her gaze back towards her.

“Hey. I have to leave just about now, but… I’d love it if you could come visit me again. Petra, was it? Let me know next time you come here and I’ll spend some time with you after the show, all right? Maybe I’ll show you behind the scenes a bit. I bet you’d like to see how we do things around here, right? I don’t think Brigid has operas.”

Delight filled every corner of Petra’s being, and she found herself nodding enthusiastically. “Yes! I will be coming back here again, definitely,” she decided. Though it was hardly up to her when she was allowed to leave the Imperial castle, as she was still their prisoner and hostage, she couldn’t imagine that Ferdinand or Edelgard would deny her another opportunity to visit the opera. “I will try to be asking if I am allowed to be coming here again.”

“Allowed to…?” Dorothea asked with a blink. “Are you not allowed to come on your own?”

Petra shook her head. “No. The situation is… it is being most complicated. I do not know if I can be explaining it in time, but… I am not allowed to be doing things on my own without permission, since…” Oh, so little time, so many things she wished to explain. “Well… I am a hostage of the Empire, and…” The words just stumbled out of Petra’s mouth, the princess finding herself unable to stop them from doing so. She normally wasn’t allowed to speak about the truth behind her situation, but it seemed that Dorothea just had a way of coaxing everything out without even trying. 

“A… hostage?” Dorothea repeated, realization dawning over her. It appeared as though she suddenly understood the full gravity of the situation the other woman was in, her eyes shimmering with sympathy. “Oh, Petra, that’s—”

“—Dorothea!” the same woman’s voice shouted. “Come on! Time’s up!”

Dorothea’s tongue clicked in annoyance. “Well, I really must be going, but… come back here any time. In fact, if they’ll let you, I wouldn’t mind seeing you tomorrow. What do you think, Ferdie?”

Ferdinand, who had been nearly forgotten about, looked a bit startled at his name being mentioned. “Uh… yes! I mean, it’s not up to me, really, but…”

“Make sure she gets to me, yes?” she requested with a wink. “Come on. You’ll do it, right? Swear on your duty as a noble and all that. You do owe me an apology for all the trouble you’ve put me through, you know.”

“Uh… yes! Yes, I’ll definitely do it, Dorothea!” the noble decided. “I’ll bring Petra here tomorrow! If she’d like.”

“Of course!” Petra blurted out, faster than she had intended. Was she making it far too obvious that she had already fallen for Dorothea’s tactics? “I would love to be meeting with you again, Dorothea.”

Dorothea giggled. “Good. I’ll look forward to it! I’ll bring some tea, all right? Or maybe I could make you a meal from your homeland? I bet you’re homesick, living so far away and all that.”

The generosity of the offer caused Petra’s heart to swell, but she had to decline. “There is no food of Brigid in Fódlan. It is unfortunate, but the people of Fódlan are not liking food of Brigid. Tea is being good enough.”

The heron didn’t seem too content with that answer. “Hm… well, I’ll figure something out,” she stated, still uncertain. “By the time we meet tomorrow, I’ll have prepared you something marvelous! You have my word. Now then… until we meet again, hm?”

With a wink, the Laguz turned and left, pushing through the crowd of men who desperately attempted to reach for her. Prying hands attempted to grab at her, to stroke her wings, and though it was evident that Dorothea was annoyed by the behavior, she failed to react to it. Was this just another example of behavior she was forced to endure? Sorrow filled Petra’s heart at the thought. The people of Fódlan were far too cruel to the Laguz, and even though these men clearly thought they were treating her with respect by offering her gifts, it was the complete opposite. 

To them, she was not a being with feelings and emotions. She was just something beautiful.

Petra breathed in and clenched her fists tightly. Though she was a Beorc, a part of her could understand the horrid situation Dorothea had found herself in. She was unlike all the others in Adrestia, a strange outsider to Enbarr. She was surrounded by thousands of men and women who would normally hate her for who she was, and yet, showered her in affection because of her looks. Her homeland had been burnt to ashes, and she was the only one left who remained; she was a faint echo of what Serenes Forest had been. While Petra was a far cry from being the only one left from Brigid, she was certainly one of the only few who resided within Fódlan. She too was looked down upon, given scornful looks and laughed at for her lack of fluency in the native language. Perhaps the two of them had more in common than what meets the eye.

Whatever their meeting tomorrow would blossom into… Petra was looking forward to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm going to save this as a draft and attempt to post it at a decent time tomorrow while I'm still at work since I don't get home until later. Let's see how this goes!
> 
> Thank you for reading this far, please leave a comment and/or a kudo if you like it!
> 
> By the way, if you’re wondering about the whole situation with Duke von Aegir I alluded to... well, he kinda resembles Oliver, doesn’t he?? :P


	3. Thorn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is a Werewolf AU. I wasn't really sure what to do with this prompt at first, but I played around with the idea of what it means to have thorns, and came up with this.
> 
> If you haven't already, check out my previous Doropetra werewolf au: [Within the Silver Moonlight's Embrace](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21261719%22). As with my last chapter, this fanfic follows a lot of the mechanics I had, but it is NOT the exact same universe. Think of it as a different werewolf Dorothea canon with the same sort of set up.

Dorothea was like a rose in every possible way.

For one thing, she was absolutely gorgeous. There was no debating her beauty when so many noblemen fell head over heels for her on a daily basis, captivated by her looks and her charm. She also always adorned herself with a brilliant opera gown with a glistening red akin to the petals on a rose, delicate yet full of passion. It was no wonder that she was gifted bundles of roses in mass from hopeful suitors following declarations of undying love, full of frivolous words that bore no weight. Red roses remained scattered around her dorm room even five whole years after what was supposed to be a temporary departure from Mittelfrank Opera Company, some withered into brown, crumbled petals that tumbled from stems laden with sharpened thorns. 

Yes, there was another reason Dorothea was said to be like a rose.

Come too close to her, and you would surely bleed.

Rumors of an ill curse that plagued the gorgeous young woman started just a few years after she had first taken the stage, gaining the name of the “Mythical Songstress” from adoring fans. One far too eager fan had gone out of his way to attempt to sneak into her room one night, only to leave screaming and cursing, fear dripping from his shaken voice. Where he was expecting to find Dorothea, he had only found a monster.

None had taken the man too seriously, not at first. But every now and then, another man would come claiming that the breathtaking songstress was in fact, a monster in disguise.

Those curious rumors had floated around the monastery when she had first enrolled, back when she was just a student. Coupled with the eerie howls that would echo from the darkened woods bordering the monastery every full moon, a few thrill seekers began to ponder if there was truth to the tale. Though most simply dismissed them as nonsense and thought nothing more of the matter, it was only due time that someone would discover the truth.

That someone had been Petra Macneary.

It was the night of the ball. Through glass windows shone the full moon, bringing further light to the already well decorated grand hall. It was a grand occasion brimming with budding romances, dancing, and hopes for the future. Being from Brigid, Petra wasn’t exactly certain that to expect from such an event. At first, she had thought a ball was some sort of grand tournament full of battle, but it immediately became evident that violence had no place during the festival. Still, when it came to dancing and fashion, Petra knew that Dorothea was the expert. Surely, she was looking forward to the night to come.

But she was missing, nowhere to be found. Manuela had informed the rest of the Black Eagles that the student songstress had fallen ill, but the explanation didn’t sit right with Petra. She had spoken with Dorothea just the day before, and she had seemed well and dandy. The inquisitive student had decided to leave the rather overwhelming atmosphere of the ball early to investigate the matter. She had gone immediately to Dorothea’s dorm, knocked on it, and found no answer. When she pulled the unlocked door open, she had found it empty. Scurrying around the Officer’s Academy had brought about no answers, no sign of the supposedly sick girl who was not in the dorm nor the infirmary. 

Petra had been on the verge of giving up, exhausted and rather confused. It was though Dorothea had vanished into thin air! Then, she had heard it. A loud howl from the forest, echoing throughout and causing a flock of birds to scurry off into the air. There had been rumors about a beast that lurked within the woods, only appearing within the light of the full silver moon, supported by the horrifying howls they’d hear every such occasion. Grabbing her best sword, Petra had taken a deep breath and ventured into the forest.

What awaited her there, deep within the heavy trees, was a beast unlike any other. A tall wolf stood upon two legs, towering over Petra. Well-kept, auburn fur covered every inch of the beast, oddly familiar in color. And those deep green eyes...

There had been no doubt about it. The beast was Dorothea Arnault herself.

Since that fateful night and discovery, Dorothea had made Petra swear to keep her curse a secret, to hide the fact that every full moon, she would become an uncontrollable, rampaging beast. Friend or foe mattered not when she was a monster, she would snarl at them and bare her razor sharp fangs, deadly enough to rip open one’s throat in seconds. 

Over the last five years, Dorothea had worked diligently with Petra to tame the beast within. Though there were some moons that Dorothea would remain calm underneath the full moon’s gaze, never was there a way to prevent her from painfully transforming into a massive wolf. Thank goodness no one else had yet learned of her secret, aside from Manuela, who had known since she had first rescued Dorothea as a child.

But some nights were particularly difficult.

It had started out just fine, at first.

“Dorothea… you must be more quiet!” Petra’s voice echoed out from above. The huntress sat upon a sturdy branch in a tree high above, a few inches out of Dorothea’s grasp. Though the beast stood at an impressive eight feet, Petra’s tree climbing abilities allowed her to scale even the tallest of obstacles. “Anyone could be hearing you!”

The werewolf looked up at her friend, looking as though she was frowning. The hulking wolf had a habit of howling at the moon, almost as though she was singing to it. Knowing who Dorothea was, Petra wouldn’t be surprised if that was _exactly_ what the girl was doing. Though her voice was deepened and diluted by her transformation, there was still something enchanting about the way that she howled, so very clear and melodic. 

“I… I can’t really help it… I just…” stammered out the wolf. “Whenever I see the moon, I just… _have_ to.”

“I am understanding. But be remembering that the monastery is heavily guarded tonight because of the threats from the church. Lady Edelgard is expecting an ambush.”

Dorothea sighed deeply, knowing her friend was right. Petra, meanwhile, could not stifle a giggle at the scene in front of her. Even though most men had run in fear at the sight of the beastly Dorothea, she found her enormous form to be incredibly adorable. Sensing that she was calm, Petra swooped down from the high branch and landed onto her feet expertly. She approached the werewolf without a hint of fear and poked her belly teasingly. 

“You are being so very cute,” she told her with a warm smile. “And very soft. I am loving this form of yours greatly…”

The werewolf looked down upon her in awe, as if she couldn’t believe the words she was hearing. “Petra… you…you can’t really mean that, can you?” 

“I am meaning it. I am thinking you are very beautiful like this, too,” replied Petra in full confidence. “I am not caring what the mean men used to be saying to you. This is what I am thinking.”

Dorothea’s gaze softened, her familiar green eyes full of warmth and surprise. “Petra… you—”

The sound of nearby footsteps upon the forest floor immediately silenced anything that Dorothea intended on saying. Petra whipped around and gazed behind her into the shroud of darkness, body growing tense. Was that the night patrol? She swore under her breath in her native language.

“Quick, Dorothea! You must be running away…!” she hissed. “I will be making sure they do not come any closer.”

Petra ducked under a thicket while Dorothea nodded and took off in the opposite direction, scurrying through the dense forest. Sharp thorns poked at the huntress’s exposed skin and she winced as she peered out through a small opening. A few guards stepped into the clearing, holding up lanterns lit by dim fire. In front of the group was none other than Ferdinand von Aegir, one of the soldiers assigned to guard duty for the moon. He surveyed the scene in front of him with a crooked frown.

“I could have sworn I heard that beast again… coming from right here,” he muttered. “There’s no way that was a hallucination, right?

“No, sir, I heard it too,” confirmed a soldier. “We all heard it.”

“Well, truly, it’s no matter. That howling beast has been around the monastery for many years now, and it hasn’t attacked anyone yet. Lady Edelgard hasn’t asked for us to get rid of it,” Ferdinand decided. “I just hope that Caspar’s group doesn’t find it. There’s no telling what he might do.”

_Shit._ There were two patrols? It made sense, given that Edelgard had ordered for higher security around the monastery. If Ferdinand’s group was here, then where was Caspar’s?

As if on cue, a loud battle cry unmistakingly belonging to Caspar sounded out from deeper into the forest, followed by a howl of pain. Petra hissed out a string of swear words under her breath, panic threatening to flood every inch of her. 

“Of course,” sighed Ferdinand, hardly surprised by the turn of events. “Let’s go then! We cannot keep Caspar waiting.”

Ferdinand and his group of soldiers took off into the night, and Petra quickly used the opportunity to unveil herself from the thorns. Her nimble legs sent her dashing through the trees, towards the ever growing sound of battle. Caspar was shouting at the top of his lungs, giving away his location and allowing Petra to easily determine where she had to go. Usually, she would scold him for his rather unstealthy tactics, but this time, she was internally thanking him. She brushed past tangles of vines and thorns that scraped against her skin, ignoring the blood rolling down her legs and cheeks and twinges of pain from stray branches. 

A loud scream pierced through Petra’s ears, and her blood went ice cold. From her position in the trees, she could see the hulking, colossal figure of the beastly Dorothea, body embedded with an array of arrows. She was howling, snarling, and just one look at those familiar green eyes told Petra that she had lost her sense of self. Blood seeped down from her wounds and from her unfurled claws. A single soldier lay at her feet with a massive gash in his chest, gasping for life that would surely soon flee. 

“Linhardt!” Caspar yelled. “Quicky, before it’s too late! I’ll take care of this beast, don’t you worry!”

Linhardt, trailing behind him with an uncertain look on his face, held up a hand encased in shimmering white magic. “This is an absolutely terrible idea. For _plenty_ of reasons. You do know this isn’t an ordinary demonic beast, yes?”

“Who cares! It’s our duty to take it down! Get ready for this!”

Without another thought, Caspar charged at the beastly Dorothea, heavy axe in hand. He swung the weapon right at her feet, causing her to shriek out when it made contact with her. She quickly retaliated by swiping a huge paw right at him, knocking him off his feet with a powerful blow. A howl of rage escaped from her throat as the beast lunged behind him into the formation of soldiers firing arrows at her, mowing them down with her immense strength. Dorothea was always a magic user when in her human form, but she was impossibly physically strong as a beast. Petra had seen her lift a whole tree from the forest floor with ease and toss it as though it weighed absolutely nothing. Dying shrieks sounded out from every corner of the woods as she plunged her claws into their chest, yowling all the while. She was clearly enraged, frightened out of her mind by the barrage of attackers, and could not recognize her own allies as she left them for dead. 

Petra felt as though she was frozen to the ground, like the vines themselves were keeping her rooted in place. What could she even do?! 

“Ferdinand!” Caspar shouted. “There you are! C’mon and help me with this thing!”

Ferdinand scurried beside Caspar, his eyes going wide as he caught sight of the murderous beast. “Is… is that a werewolf? The very same one we’ve heard for all these years?” he asked. 

“Who cares! Why are you and Linhardt so caught up about this!? It’s killing our soldiers!” the man argued. “We gotta fight it!”

“But… Werewolves transform under the full moon, do they not? That thing… it’s an actual human being!” Ferdinand argued. “I’ve heard stories about them. And… oh…! Oh Goddess… could it be?”

Another barrage of arrows struck Dorothea, sending her stumbling backwards. Caspar’s battalion was fighting back despite their injured numbers, swinging clawed fists at her. Linhardt, meanwhile, was hurriedly going from soldier to soldier, casting white magic to close wounds before their life ebbed away. 

“Caspar! We can’t!” Ferdinand yelled. “That beast must be—!”

“STOP!”

Petra’s piercing voice broke through the chaos as she charged out of the shadows, killing edge unsheathed. She slid in front of Dorothea and brandished the blade at the Imperial soldiers, her chest heaving up and down. Fierce determination shown within her tired brown eyes, soul burning with all the force of the Flame Spirit. “If you are getting one step closer, I will be have to be cutting you down!” she threatened, venom in her tone. It was the last thing she wanted, but she knew it would never come to that. 

“Petra!?” Caspar gasped. “What’s going on here!?”

From behind her, Dorothea let out a ferocious howl. Claws stained with blood raised upwards, ready to strike once again for the soldiers who had been foolish enough to pick a fight with her. Though arrows littered her body like thorns embedded deep within, it seemed she was not done. A mixture of sweltering rage and fear swirled within those familiar green eyes, a sight that broke Petra’s very heart. She swung her whole body around and shook her head. 

“Please! Be stopping this!” she pleaded with the beast. She had read countless books about lycanthropy, said to be the result of a corrupted Crest. All of them stated that it was impossible for a werewolf in beast form to recognize someone, yet, at the same time, it was all Petra could think of. “These are being our friends!”

Dorothea merely snarled and lurched forward, unveiling fangs caked red with blood. There was no spark of recognition within those eyes, no hint of the wonderful Dorothea that Petra knew so well. Gritting her teeth together, Petra held up her arms as if to block the way, even though she knew that her tiny body was like a scrap of paper compared to the eight foot wolf. 

“Petra,” Linhardt’s voice came from behind. Being the knowledgeable crest scholar that he was, it was more than likely that he had already identified the condition before him. “It’s no use—” 

“Silence!” ordered Petra with all the ferocity of a Brigid warrior. “I will not be allowing this…!”

Then, in a split second decision, the princess did the only thing she could think of:

She ran towards Dorothea and threw her arms around her, crashing her entire body into the fluffy fur caked with blood and arrows. Well-trained muscles kept the monstrous woman in a firm embrace while she pressed her face into Dorothea’s stomach, breathing heavily. The sudden move clearly threw the werewolf off guard, for she merely stood there, bewildered. A low growl sounded out from her throat, but Petra ignored it. Given everything that had happened to her, Dorothea’s body felt terribly, terribly weak. Her legs were trembling, mere seconds away from giving out. 

“Please… lie down,” Petra requested, tenderly running her fingers through auburn fur. “You are hurt. Do not be fighting anymore.”

Though Dorothea continued to thrash against her, it was clear that she could no longer remain fighting. The damage had been done, and she toppled backwards, chest heaving. Petra wasted no time climbing atop her, pulling herself up towards Dorothea’s face and cupping a cheek in her hand, stroking it gingerly between her fingers. The werewolf struggled underneath in a whirlwind of anger, attempting to free herself from the clutches of the other woman so that she could throw herself back into the fray of battle. The huntress gripped Dorothea’s shoulder with her other hand, steadying herself with burning determination. She could not falter, could not back down.

“Calm down,” she instructed in a soft tone, all while continuing to comb through the fur upon Dorothea’s cheek. Brown eyes bore into green ones, and the huntress smiled softly. “It is being me. Petra.”

Harsh snarls transformed into mere whimpers as the wolf gazed back. Emerald eyes grew wide as something within suddenly clicked into place. The look of pure anger softened into realization as her mouth gaped open. 

“Dorothea...” Petra whispered. “Please. I love you.” The princess leaned in close, sealing the confession with a soft, tender kiss upon the werewolf’s temple. 

Then, as if it were a fairytale, the werewolf beneath her was overtaken by bright light. Petra hastily stepped off and gasped as Dorothea’s form shrunk back down to its normal height, molding, changing. She watched as the light subsided, leaving behind the very human form of Dorothea Arnault, eyes closed and body still punctured with scattered arrows. Her chest heaved up and down as she sought to catch her breath from her rampage. Petra knelt down by her side, hovering over her as fuschia hair tied in a ponytail hung over her shoulder. All the while, the other soldiers looked on in shock, staring at the girl who had mere moments ago been a beast.

“I knew it…” Ferdinand muttered. “The rumors were true after all… about the rose of the Mittelfrank Opera, and the thorns of the beast she became beneath the full moon.”

Dorothea’s eyelids fluttered open, immediately meeting the worried gaze of the other woman. Petra anticipated the girl beneath her to cry out with the shock of what she had just done, to immediately go into a state of panic. But Dorothea always knew how to surprise Petra, and this time, she did so by smiling, brilliantly yet weakly all the same. “Oh, Petra. My Petra,” she laughed. “You did it, my darling love. You saved me…!”

Before Petra even had a moment to reply, Dorothea suddenly shot upwards like an arrow and flung her arms around the other woman’s shoulders. Lips passionately dived right for Petra’s own in a desperate yet sensual kiss, muffling any noises of shock from the other woman. The princess’s trembling, uncertain hands weaved their way around the werewolf’s back as she sought to return the gesture in full force. She had dreamt of a million different ways their first kiss could go, but surrounded by nearly dead soldiers with more than a dozen arrows in Dorothea’s body was certainly not one of them. Still, Petra did not allow that to falter her passion for the other woman, kissing her deeply and fully. In that prolonged moment, the two forgot about all else but each other. In a night full of horrors, it was as though heaven itself had arrived, healing all sustained wounds in a veil of pure love.

But sadly, as wonderful as their kiss was, it was not magical. Dorothea had to pull backwards as she coughed, wheezing. Her injuries were finally catching up with her, taking their toll on her battered body.

“Shit,” cursed Caspar. “Dorothea!? Are you all right? Fuck! Linhardt!”

“I told you this was a bad idea,” Linhardt sighed. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

Petra surrendered her newfound lover to the care of Linhardt, who had saved far too many lives for one night and was ready to save one more. White magic surrounded his fingertips, the glow working its way towards the open wounds. One by one, he pried her free from the arrows and closed each and every one of her lacerations with expertise. 

“Now then, Caspar. I certainly hope you’ve learned your lesson,” scolded Linhardt. “Don’t just go charging at anything.”

“How was I supposed to know Dorothea was a werewolf!?” argued Caspar. “Okay, listen! I know I messed up, but still! Dorothea’s never told any of us! Except Petra, apparently.”

Dorothea shot the group a remorseful look. “I should have said so sooner, I… I was just so afraid,” she admitted. “Everyone who’s found out about my curse has run from me… everyone except Petra. I didn’t want to lose anyone because of this horrible curse, not again. I… I wouldn’t be able to take that.”

Ferdinand shook his head. “It is my fault for not realizing it sooner! I should have linked the rumors and the beast that’s been at the monastery for five years to you. This whole situation could have very easily been avoided. At least we managed to avoid casualties, thanks to you, Linhardt.”

“Mmm… I’m going to need a long nap to make up for all this…” muttered the sleepy priest, just at the tail end of his work. Dorothea’s wounds were closed, and she was already looking worlds better than before.

“I think… we have all learnt much tonight,” Petra spoke up. “Dorothea… you were having fear that everyone would hate you because of those awful men. But we are not being those people. We are being your friends, who are loving you with all our hearts. We would not reject you because of this, ever.” The confident smile on Petra’s face only served to strengthen her words, as she knew every single one of them to be true. “And… Caspar, I am hoping that you have gained the learning not to be so brash.”

Caspar sighed. “Yeah, I… I really messed this one up, huh? Damnit! It’s that whole thing with the scorpion tattoo man all over again. The professor’s gonna chew me out real bad, I know she is.”

“You do not need to have worry,” Petra assured him. “I am glad that you have gained this lesson! And as for me…” The Brigid princess’s heart fluttered within her chest. “Well. I have gained the knowledge that Dorothea is loving me back.”

Despite all her exhaustion, Dorothea could not help but giggle. “Really? You didn’t know? Honestly, Petra… You’re so smart, but so silly sometimes,” she teased. “If I weren’t so tuckered out, I’d come over there and show you just how much I love you…”

“Urgh…” Caspar grumbled with a shudder. “Please, not here!”

A hearty laugh sounded out from Petra, whose heart had flooded with with joy. In a single night, she had nearly witnessed the deaths of several of her friends and allied soldiers, but it had suddenly changed to long hidden feelings pouring out onto the surface. Truly, such was the Black Eagles Strike Force Experience. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, if you liked this I would really appreciate a kudo and a comment! Hearing what people have to say about fanfics I work hard on really brightens my day. 
> 
> I’m also a sucker for the whole “human transformed into a beast on a rampage recognizes their lover and turns back” trope... so I kinda had to use it, lol.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	4. Sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is a mermaid au. when people think of mermaid au, they tend to think of the little mermaid but... i have never seen that movie so this is different. ive seen a few mermaid aus like that with doropetra with petra being the human and dorothea being the mermaid but this ones the opposite. 
> 
> some fluff and minor angst. but very fluffy.

The scent of sea salt drifted through the air, carried by the cool ocean’s breeze. Dorothea’s long, brown hair waved gently as she made her way down the familiar beach just like she always did around this time every evening, after rehearsal. Unsteady heels that were not designed to traverse sand were slipped off and discarded behind a tall palm tree, out of sight. It was always empty at this hour, given that technically this particular section of the beach was off limits to all but the royal family of Adrestia. Given that the only living member was currently Emperor Edelgard, there was hardly ever any visitors besides the occasion that the emperor herself decided to come relax by the ocean’s waves. Being a common woman, despite all the notability she had gained as the star of the biggest opera company in all of Fódlan, she would surely be scolded if someone were to happen upon her.

But even if that was a possibility, she cared not. She would sacrifice everything just to come here.

Bare feet met the slippery surface of jagged rocks, and Dorothea steadied herself. She had plenty of practice, and her calloused heels barely felt the sharp ends. The opera singer hopped her way across gaps as she led herself across the makeshift dock, leading deeper into the ocean.

Now, she stood at the very end, looking down into the blue water reflecting the beginnings of a setting sun. A flummoxed expression appeared upon her face.

“Petra?” she called out. It wasn’t like her to not be here.

Not a moment later, a splash sounded out from nearby. From the water slipped out the head of a beautiful young woman, dark purple hair slung back into a ponytail. Brown eyes glimmered with joy as she gazed at the other woman, water rolling off her bare shoulders and back into the ocean. She wore only a makeshift bra crafted with seaweed, sturdy given the materials used. 

“There you are, my dearest love,” gushed Dorothea, a smile immediately gracing her features. “Oh, how I’ve missed you, my darling. I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

Petra giggled. “It has only been not even a day! But I have been missing you, too,” she replied, equally as overjoyed to see her lover. “Will you be joining me?”

Dorothea nodded. “Yes, yes, of course. Just give me one second…”

The opera singer reached behind her back to undo her corset and choker, allowing her sleek red dress to slip from her figure and crumple onto the rocks below. She discarded her jewelry atop it, setting it firmly so it would not fall in the water. Even if it did, Petra would be there to retrieve any missing items. Now only in her bra and underwear, the songstress poked a toe into the water. Moderately warm, perhaps a bit on the cold side, but nothing she wouldn’t get used to. Without wasting another moment, she took the plunge into the glistening sea, allowing the water to overtake her.

It was chilly, at first. A shiver went up Dorothea’s spine as she closed her eyes, forcing her body to withstand the unpleasant cold. But a soft pair of arms found their way around the songstress’s shoulders just mere moments before a warm body pulled against hers, holding her as close as could be. Dorothea let out a sigh of relief as she weaved her own arms around her lover’s back. Her eyes peeked open to gaze into those familiar brown eyes, fingers ghosting over her soft cheeks, stroking just beneath the tattoo that lay underneath Petra’s eye. Not wasting a moment longer, Dorothea lunged forward to capture the other woman’s lips in a deep, sensual kiss, one that Petra returned wholeheartedly. Dorothea’s back scraped against the rock as the princess’s tongue grazed her lips, asking for permission that was granted without hesitance. Dorothea let out a soft groan of appreciation as their tongues slid against one another, tasting the strangely sweet flavor of Petra’s mouth. By the Goddess, this woman was simply  _ perfect _ . 

It felt like ages before they finally pried their lips away from one another. A soft laugh passed through Dorothea’s lips as she bumped her forehead against Petra’s, noses touching.

“Hello, my beloved,” breathed Dorothea, unmistakable affection glittering in those green eyes. “Oh, how I’ve longed for you all day. Practice seemed to go on forever, but all I could think about was you… I love you so much, my sweetest Petra...”

Petra beamed, relishing in the sweet words of affection. “I have been thinking of you, too. It gives me great sorrow that we are not able to be together always. If it were having possibility, I would never be leaving your side.” 

The songstress sighed as her hands trailed down Petra’s, reaching glimmering purple scales that sparsely decorated her back. How cruel of the world to make her soulmate one who could only thrive in the ocean, when she could only live on land. Daily meetings between them near the shore of Adrestia was all they had, for Petra lacked legs and Dorothea lacked fins. Though they spent plenty of time simply reveling in the presence of one another, there was an undeniable frustration that lay in the background, for their time together was coming to an end.

Petra was a mermaid, possessing a scaled fish’s tail instead of legs. The ocean was her home, her kingdom, and she was its princess. Deep beneath the surface lay a vast kingdom by the name of Brigid, made up solely of mermaids. Its existence was only a legend to most, passed down in children’s books and fairytales, but few knew of the truth. Long ago, the Adrestian Empire had discovered the truth and attempted to rob it of its treasures, of its weaponry and secrets. Recently, however, they had succeeded in capturing Petra, the princess. She lay trapped in Adrestian waters for many years until Edelgard ascended the throne and released her back into the ocean. Still, she had lingered around the Empire in hopes of forming a treaty with the humans, so that they could both live in peace. 

But Brigid was calling to her. Brigid needed its princess back, and soon, Petra would have to swim back to the underwater kingdom and claim her crown and throne. Dorothea could tell by the way the mermaid passionately described her homeland, so full of oceanic life and vigor, that she loved it deeply and missed it so very painfully. She had intended on leaving sooner, but falling madly in love with a human woman hadn’t been apart of the plan. 

They had met one fateful evening, when Dorothea was practicing an aria upon the comfort of the private beach. She had been singing her heart out to the ocean, voice so clear and  _ perfect _ . Petra had caught sight of her from the ocean and swam as close as possible to watch the beautiful woman, but not carefully enough. Their eyes met, and soon enough, they had become friends. Over the course of a few months of chatting, of meeting each other every day to listen to Dorothea practice her songs, they had fallen deeply in love with one another. Now, Dorothea couldn’t bear the thought of living without her darling love, the woman she was convinced was her soul mate. It was evident that Petra thought the same, for she had delayed her return to Brigid several times. But how much longer could it go on like this?

“Petra,” whispered Dorothea, reaching to fiddle with a wet strand of purple hair. “I…”

“There is something I wish to be asking you, Dorothea,” Petra spoke up, eyes and tone serious. 

A nervous breath left Dorothea’s lips. “Yes…?”

“You… you are loving me, correct?”

“Oh, Petra,  _ yes _ ,” Dorothea answered without wasting a moment. “I love you so deeply, so passionately. You are my everything, my beautiful princess. You are the light of my life! I’ve… I’ve never loved anyone, loved  _ anything _ as passionately as I do you. I…” There were thousands of different ways to say it, plenty of poetic words strung together to form a whole soliloquy. She could go on forever about how passionately, how deeply she loved her beautiful Petra. 

“Then… will you be coming back to Brigid with me?”

It was a question Dorothea never thought she would ever hear. Her eyes blinked a few times as she processed the weight of the words. “What…? But… that’s impossible, Petra. I can’t breathe underwater, and Brigid… well, it’s all the way in the ocean. If I tried to go there, I’d be dead in minutes!”

Petra took a moment, looking uncertain, worried, as if she feared what she was about to say. “What if I was to be telling you that I found a way… A way to make you like me?” she spoke out, voice shaky. 

Dorothea could not help but gasp, her eyes widening in surprise. “Petra…” she breathed. 

Petra held out a finger to indicate that she needed a moment. Dorothea released the woman from her hold, and immediately, the mermaid dove underneath the surface, purple tail flickering drops of water upwards. She was only gone for a mere moment before she resurfaced, droplets of water cascading down her entire body, rolling from her wet, fuchsia mane. With the light of the setting sun behind her, she truly looked like a princess. An unsteady fist reached forward towards her lover. She held it there for just a heavy second before she flipped her wrist and curled her fingers back, revealing a shimmering piece of kelp, reflecting all the colors of the rainbow upon its leaves. At a glance, it was evident that it was no ordinary sea kelp, but rather, something magical. 

“This is…?” Dorothea asked.

“Erm… I am not knowing the name in your language, but… it is rare magic from Brigid. If you are eating this… you will be growing a tail like mine. You could be living with me underwater in Brigid for the rest of our lives. I want to be showing you my homeland, and… I want to take you as my queen. I want that so very much,” proposed Petra. Although it was evident that she was nervous about making such a huge request of the other woman, there was a clear look of undying affection deep within those brown eyes. She was always true, always honest, and meant every word of her proposal. That much was obvious to Dorothea. 

Dorothea’s jaw hung open as she stared at her lover, shifting her gaze every now and then to the piece of magical kelp still resting upon the mermaid’s palm. It was though all of her fantasies that she dared to indulge in only late at night were suddenly being made a very real possibility, and the key was sitting right in front of her. Such passionate and true words… they could only be…

“Are you… proposing?” Dorothea asked. “Are you asking to marry me?”

Petra nodded. “Yes. I am. I am loving you so deeply, and I cannot think of anyone I want to be spending the rest of my life with besides you. I am thinking… you will be making a perfect queen.” 

Dorothea’s heart fluttered with pure elation, and she felt ready to explode with such joy. A beaming smile spread from ear to ear on her face as tears welled up within her eyes. “Oh, Petra! Oh, I would love to marry you!” she cried out, overcome by emotion. “I would love nothing more than to be your wife, and to see your homeland. That… that sounds wonderful…”

“Are… are you having certainty? If you are eating this kelp… then you will become like me. There are being ways to turn into a human again if you are changing your mind, but… Going all the way to Brigid with me means we will not be coming here often. You would have to leave the opera… and everyone else,” Petra pointed out, still worried. 

It was true that there were plenty of problems that came with the idea, but… Truly, the Empire had never been kind to her. As much as she loved singing and being upon the stage, she hated the fame that came with it. She hated the men who threw themselves at her, hated the daily marriage proposals from nobles she knew would never love the real her. This horrid world and the corrupt politics had only ever hurt her, ruined her. The way Petra described Brigid… it was like a true paradise. Not only that, but she would be married to the queen, for goodness’s sake!

“It’s all right. I never liked the Empire, anyway,” Dorothea reaffirmed. “Besides… a life with you. I could never give that up for anything.”

Petra’s eyes sparkled as her excitement blossomed into pure glee. She nearly tackled her lover against the rocks, lips locking against the other pair. Dorothea gasped but quickly shook off the surprise, twining her hands around the ocean princess’s waist and returning the kiss with full fervor. She melted against Petra’s body, allowing her pure love for the other woman to overtake them both. When air insisted the two of them part, they only took a quick breath before slamming together again, wet bodies sliding against one another. It was minutes before they finally stopped, and only to pull away to gaze at each other’s eyes.

“My love…” Dorothea whispered. “I’ve made up my mind. I won’t ever leave you. Let’s be together… forever.”

Petra nodded in understanding, happiness swirling through her entire being. The fist that had been clinging to the kelp unfurled from behind Dorothea’s back and presented itself once more to other woman. Carefully, gently, the songstress plucked the kelp from the mermaid's palm, holding it up to the setting sun and watching as the array of colors shone brilliantly. 

“Will it hurt?” Dorothea inquired breathlessly.

“I am not knowing,” Petra confessed with a frown. “I have only been hearing legends of it. To find it gave me great difficulty.”

“Well… I suppose there’s only one way to know for sure.”

Dorothea took the piece of kelp and brought it to her lips, inhaling the scent. It smelt strongly of salt, with that unmistakable hint of fish. She couldn’t imagine it would taste the greatest, but whatever it took to be with Petra, she didn’t care. 

“You will be eating it now?” Petra asked, wide-eyed.

“Yes. I can’t wait any longer,” Dorothea admitted, cheeks tinted red. “I want to begin my new life with you right away!”

Petra was clearly overjoyed with this response, her brown eyes twinkling with glee. “That is bringing me great joy…! Oh Dorothea, I am loving you so much. We will be having the best life together!”

“Oh, Petra. We sure will.”

With that, the human woman opened her mouth, slipping the kelp within. The overwhelming taste of salt filled her mouth, but she ignored it as she chewed the thick leaves steadily, feeling her whole body begin to tingle. Soon enough, a strange dizziness overtook her, and she felt incredibly light headed. Before she became far too dazed, she swallowed the kelp, eyes focused on Petra as her vision began to blur. A murmur of worry passed through the aquatic princess’s lips as she sought to steady her lover, who was quickly slipping underneath the waves. A strange feeling was emanating throughout, spreading through her body with small twinges of pain. 

Then her vision went black.

It only felt like a few moments later when she heard her lover’s soft voice, calling to her, whispering her name lovingly as fingers stroked through brown, wet locks of hair. Dorothea’s green eyes flickered open, immediately meeting the worried eyes of her precious Petra, who was cradling her in her arms upon the ocean’s surface.

“Petra?” she muttered, memories a bit hazy. 

She attempted to steady herself, to stand, but quickly realized she had no legs to stand on. Quickly, she looked down, gasping as she noticed that her entire lower half had been replaced by a fish’s tail, brilliant red in color. She tentatively lifted her fins from the ocean’s surface, admiring the sight of water trickling off of it. Immediate elation flooded her entire being as she remembered exactly what had happened, and soon enough, she found herself flinging her entire body at her lover. 

“Petra! Oh, Petra! It worked!” she gushed, arms holding her lover close. “Look!”

Petra giggled. “I am seeing! Your fins are having such beauty,” she commented, admiring the form of her newly transformed lover. “You are looking stunning as a mermaid!”

Dorothea smiled, heart swelling up with pure love for her sweet Petra. The princess was finding new ways to make her lover fall deeper and deeper in love with her every day, and today, the songstress was certain she had hit the apex of happiness. She planted a light kiss to Petra’s curved lips, enjoying the warmth. 

“Now then. Shall we go?” Dorothea suggested. “I just can’t wait any longer!”

“Yes. Let us be going,” agreed Petra. “All of Brigid is waiting for us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my prompts so far, please leave a kudo! there's only one left to go. i also really appreciate comments, i love hearing what people think about my AUs + which ones i should write more about.


	5. Distance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's the last prompt! this one is distance, and it features a modern au. tbh this isn't something i normally write or a style i normally write, but i figured it was worth a go, especially since most of these fics are about monster girls.
> 
> it should be noted that this is a modern setting, but it still takes place in fódlan. so just imagine canon f3h setting but modernized.

Dorothea missed her girlfriend.

It had been one and a half months since they had last seen each other at the airport in Adrestia, bidding each other farewell for summer break. Given what a bundle of stress university was— _ especially _ Garegg Mach University—it was a much needed break from what was mostly a roller coaster of coursework and anxiety. Life as an everyday common woman attending such a prestigious university on a scholarship when it was mostly packed full of rich kids who had paid their way in was complex, and suffocatingly difficult at times. Class after class, and more often than not, Dorothea found herself buried in mountains of homework.

But somehow, that all seemed far too easy compared to being away from her beautiful girlfriend.

The songstress groaned and rolled upon her side, lazily procrastinating from her other duties as she lay in her bed. She curled herself underneath a thick, woven blanket decorated with intricate patterns and inhaled deeply, relishing in the faint scent of Petra that still lingered. It had been a surprise gift, one that the Brigid princess had put all her heart into weaving for her beloved, and Dorothea cherished it. Hands squished a plush wolf from Brigid to her chest, mind sinking back to the memory of the cherished, handwritten love letter she had received in the mail alongside it not a month before. No matter the distance, it seemed Petra was intent on spoiling her love with gifts from her homeland. Her heart ached as she thought of the ocean that parted the two, leaving them with only phone calls and texts to remain in contact. 

Of course, Dorothea was happy for Petra. When she was at university, she often seemed overcome with homesickness, desperately missing the beautiful shores of her homeland. Petra was an exchange student from Brigid, on a program and seeking to study foreign relations and language alongside a few athletic pursuits. In fact, she was actually the  _ princess _ of Brigid, though she never tended to boast about her title and was rather modest about the whole matter, an aspect of her that Dorothea admired. It was much better than listening to Ferdinand von Aegir ramble on and on about his status as the son of the prime minister.

Petra had offered her girlfriend to come alongside her and stay the summer in her castle, but unfortunately, other obligations tethered Dorothea to Fódlan. She still had her theatre company to tend to, and given it was the sole reason she had been allowed to attend Garegg Mach, she felt the need to oversee some of the summer plans. 

But oh, how her heart longed for her love. To think that she, an orphan who once had no chance, would find herself deeply in love with an actual  _ princess _ . Life certainly was strange. 

A buzz from her nightstand forced her away from the comforts of her blankets. She hardly minded the sacrifice when she saw her lover’s name right beside a message, her spirits immediately lifting.

**PETRA** : Good evening, love! I am sorry for a late response. I was swimming all day, I lost track of time! The beaches of Brigid are so lovely, I can not wait to show you some day. I wish you were here. <3\. 

As Dorothea scrolled down the screen of her smartphone with her thumb, nothing could have possibly prepared her for what she next saw. Petra had attached an image to go alongside her message. While she often took pictures of scenery in Brigid to showcase some of the abundant nature that flourished solely within the confines of the archipelago, and occasionally a quick selfie, this was  _ much  _ different.

The image in question showcased Petra in her full glory, smiling beside the waves of Brigid wearing an orange swimsuit that left very little to the imagination. Droplets of ocean water trickled down from her shoulders and sparkled upon her slim yet athletic form, making her look akin to a goddess. The top of her bikini was rather ill-fitting to her form, presenting plenty of skin normally not shown, especially not in the school mandated swimsuits she was required to wear for the swim team. Dorothea’s throat felt dry as she settled her gaze upon Petra’s toned stomach which showed off years of athletic training. It was no wonder she was so strong, so highly prized by their school for her feats. Not to mention, those gorgeous, excellent thighs that looked like they could crush a skull between them… 

Dorothea was definitely on the verge of an emotional implosion. A very, very gay implosion.

**DOROTHEA** : oh my goddess petra you look STUNNING. seriously im dying right here. I cant believe youre mine. 

**PETRA** : You think so? Please do not go dying on me! My heart would break. I would not know what to do without you.

**DOROTHEA** : oh please i refuse to die until i marry you, but ugh. youre playing with my heart so badly right now. goddess i wish i were there.

**PETRA** : Maybe next year if you are not busy? I do not know what you will be doing after graduation, but… if you came with me, it would fill my heart with joy.

**DOROTHEA** : id do anything for that. Brigid looks so wonderful. I hope youve been happy, love. You always talked about how much you missed brigid at school and… well, now youre there. I imagine youre over the moon!

**PETRA** : ??? I am in Brigid, not the moon, silly!

**DOROTHEA** : it’s an expression! It means to be really happy.

**PETRA** : Oh! I have understanding. In truth, it is nice to be home. But…

There was a momentary pause between messages. Dorothea noticed the bubble indicating Petra’s incoming text popping up and vanishing, a sign that she was perhaps thinking over what she wanted to say. Dorothea’s heart t as she thought about whether or not to simply reply or allow the princess to finish her thoughts. Her finger awkwardly ghosted above the keyboard, debating her options. 

Luckily, after about a minute, Petra finally replied.

**PETRA** : It is nice being home. It is true that I longed for Brigid a lot when I was at Garegg Mach. But.. I miss you so painfully. I keep thinking… what if Dorothea was here? I know you have other obligations (Google tells me this is the correct word) and even here there is much for me to do. But it is hard being without you. I often am dreaming of you. I want to show you the oceans of Brigid and eat the food with you. Something like that would give me joy.

A breath hitched in her throat as Dorothea gazed as the reply. There had always been the occasional exchanges of “I miss yous” and other such words, but this was the first time Petra admitted to the extent of just how much she missed the other woman. Dorothea’s fingers trembled upon the smartphone as she finally let the shaky breath escape, a thousand thoughts running through her mind all at once. It was hard to put together all of them, but there was one convergence, one clear conclusion:

She had to see Petra. Now.

**DOROTHEA:** where are you right now?

**PETRA** : I am in my bedroom. Why?

**DOROTHEA:** im coming.

It was a split second decision. She was scheduled to attend choir practice the following morning and then help with overseeing a dress rehearsal in her theatre company, but all of those obligations felt like they hardly mattered in the face of Petra. Never before had she jolted out of bed so quickly. Dorothea scurried to the closet, hauling out a heavy suitcase which she burst open without wasting a moment. Hands quickly began to shove it full of various summer clothing, light enough to help her withstand what was sure to be the most scorching heat she had ever endured. In the background, her phone was buzzing, but Petra’s questions could come later. She also had to go gather some toiletries, her phone and laptop charger, and maybe a snack or two for the airport. 

At any point, Dorothea knew she could have stopped in her tracks and think this over. This was absolutely crazy, and she hadn’t even booked a flight yet! Yet, she did not allow herself to halt, did not allow the more logical part of her brain to even have a chance to interrupt this passion-filled decision. She frantically amassed all necessary belongings and shoved them into her suitcase.

Exhausted but far from losing spirit, Dorothea retrieved her phone.

**PETRA** ** _:_** What do you mean?

 **PETRA** : You are coming to Brigid? Now?

 **PETRA** : But you have choir tomorrow, yes?

**PETRA** : Dorothea?? Hello??

**PETRA** : How are you coming here?

**DOROTHEA** : sorry, i was packing. I gotta book a flight real quick

**PETRA** : !?!? You are really coming?? But what about choir? And your theatre?

**DOROTHEA** : those can all wait but goddess, Petra, i need to be with you. I cant stand this distance between us anymore. I want to see brigid with you, i want to go swimming with you, i want to kiss you… 

**PETRA** : But… do you have money for the flight?

**DOROTHEA** : ah. I dont know.

**PETRA** : I will help you… if you are sure about seeing me. Wait one minute.

Dorothea’s heart felt lulled by the kindness of her wonderful girlfriend. Being a college student with barely any money to her name was more than difficult, but as it turned out, having a girlfriend who was a literal princess made things a bit less harsh on her. 

It took a bit of time to work out all the intricacies, but before long, she had a ticket with her name on it, all set to go for a flight early the next morning. With her heart stuttering out of control and thoughts full to the brim of her beloved Petra, how was she ever to sleep?

**DOROTHEA** : wait for me, love. im coming.

* * *

After what was a sleepless night, a huge hassle at the airport, and a five hour long flight consisting of more attempts to force herself to sleep despite the racket from the engine and her wild thoughts, the singer finally arrived upon Brigid soil, suitcase in hand. The first thing she noticed was how overwhelmingly, blistering  _ hot  _ it was. She had been expecting heat, but this knocked out all of her expectations. She hastily made her way into the air conditioned Brigid Airport, decorated with all sorts of tropical plants that showcased the natural beauty of the archipelago.

**DOROTHEA** : hi love!!! I landed!!! its really hot here!!! igotta get through customs but ill see you soon!!!!! Cant wait to kiss that adorable face of yours

**PETRA** : I am here as well! Oh, I can not wait!

Customs were an absolute snoozefest for Dorothea, who wanted nothing more than to bolt forward and skip it all just so that she could melt within the arms of her lover. There was all of Brigid to see, and there she was, stuck in line, mindlessly fiddling with her phone as she sought to quell her anxieties. Never had she left the confines of Adrestia, and she certainly hadn’t been to a foreign country before. She had a handful of ideas about what to expect from Petra herself, but actually experiencing it… well, there had been a time where she had never imagined herself as anything but a dirty orphan fated to live on the streets when she inevitably ran out of money. All of it felt so surreal, so incredible, and yet, so nerve wracking. 

After way too long spent idling about as she waited for her turn, Dorothea sprinted out into the meeting area, far too excited. Her heart felt like it was about to burst at the seams, as though she was mere moments away from coming undone. She quickly scanned the crowd of people, but did not find a hint of that brilliant fuchsia hair amongst the horde of people. Her hand dived into her pocket to she retrieve her phone, and she was mere moments away from sending a text when she heard a familiar voice.

“Dorothea!”

That was all the warning she got before Petra crashed straight into her, arms flinging around her and sending the songstress nearly stumbling to the ground. Thankfully, strong arms supported her and kept her steady as she was pulled into a tight embrace, a familiar warmth spreading throughout her entire body. Her heart thrummed joyously in her chest as the scent of her beloved like the ocean’s breeze and fragrant fruit filled her senses. 

“Petra!” gasped Dorothea. “Oh, Petra! It’s you!”

A month and a half of being apart had taken its toll, and she certainly hadn’t been prepared for the sight of just how  _ radiant _ Petra was underneath the sun of her homeland. When the princess pulled back, Dorothea got to admire the Brigid garbs that decorated her love. She was wearing a traditional top that left her back almost completely exposed and covered only her chest, leaving her  _ gorgeous _ abs on full display. Likewise, her relatively short skirt left her legs mostly exposed, though one wore a single stocking. The attire tailored to fit the sweltering heat, and Dorothea found herself suddenly thankful for Brigid’s unrelenting climate. Though her girlfriend was always beautiful, there was just something different about the way she held herself in clothing of her homeland. She was clearly happier, more relaxed, and thriving. 

“Oh, you’re  _ gorgeous _ , Petra, I…” Dorothea’s heart skipped a beat. There were tons of people here, and all eyes were surely to be on the princess of Brigid. She could already feel the gazes of plenty curious locals and guests, whispers in another language floating through the air. Was it appropriate for the songstress to sweep the other woman into her arms, pin her against the wall and just ravish her with her lips there and then? Probably not. 

Despite all that, it seemed that Petra didn’t care. At all.

The next thing she knew, Petra’s lips were upon hers, capturing her in a passionate, longing kiss. Dorothea gasped in surprise, a million thoughts swirling in her head about how many people were sure to gossip about them, especially if they took it too far. Yet, at the same time… a whole month and a half she had waited for this moment, and now, she was on Brigid soil with the love of her life kissing her like there was no tomorrow. 

Ah, let them talk. Dorothea was used to rumors about her, anyways.

The songstress’s arms snaked behind Petra’s back and met bare skin as she fervently returned the kiss, unable to help herself. Petra tasted as lovely as ever, felt as lovely as ever, and by the Goddess she had missed this! All inhibitions dropped as Dorothea’s back bumped into the wall, Petra’s hands clinging to the songstress’s shoulders perhaps a bit too tight. A sigh escaped Dorothea’s mouth as Petra’s tongue prodded curiously at her lips, and the princess used the ample opportunity to slip her tongue in with a satisfied groan. Fingers lightly traced Petra’s exposed shoulder blades as she teetered upon the border of what was publicly acceptable, knowing that she was well close to starting some sort of public scandal. 

Dorothea gave Petra a light nudge, reminding her of their current location. Reluctantly, the princess released the other woman from the kiss, though their arms remained around each other. 

It felt like every person in the room’s gaze was fixed upon their princess, plenty sets of eyes wide with shock upon seeing such a display. It was hardly public knowledge that the two were dating, and now, the entire island would be buzzing with the gossip.

“I missed you, my love,” Dorothea whispered. 

“I have been missing you, too. I am glad to finally be kissing you again. Your lips are as warm as ever,” Petra breathed.

The princess took a moment to look around, listening to the gossip that had already begun to blossom in the midst of the crowd. There would be plenty to talk about amongst the civilians, it seemed. 

With far too many prying eyes upon them, Petra craned her neck forward and leaned into Dorothea’s ear. “There are being many places I wish to be showing you in Brigid, but… there is one place I want to be showing you first.”

“Oh? And that is?” Dorothea replied, curious.

“My bedroom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly, nothing more powerful on earth than lesbians. they will do anything for each other.
> 
> so if you read all of these, i'd like to know which one was your favorite. which au should i write more of in the future? this was fun, and i'm glad i managed to do them all. i got some basic ideas i had in my mind down on a doc to share with y'all. 
> 
> thank you for reading thus far!

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my work, please follow me on twitter! I post musings about Doropetra and some other stuff.
> 
> [Here's a link to my twitter!](https://twitter.com/brigidspride)


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